An Absolutely True Story
by Princess MacEaver
Summary: (Finally finished!!) What happened this past summer when I visited NYC... and ended up time-traveling. What makes my story different from all those other girl goes to 1899 sagas? Every word is true!
1. First Night and Day One

An Absolutely True Story

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**An Absolutely True Story**

**(I Swear!)**

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By Princess MacEaver,

who's written some serious fanfiction, too.

[A/N:This is sort of a silly little story that I started writing after my trip to NYC last summer.And I swear by the streamers on my princess hat, every word is true.And, well, if you find that hard to believe, that's just you…]

_The Requisite Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in this story, except myself, of course, and my little brother.(He sold me his soul to get out of ever washing the dishes.Sucker.)Mostly everyone else belongs to Disney.Lucky Disney.I'll swap 'em my little brother for a newsie any day._****

"He must have already left, honey," Mom said.I didn't want to agree, though it was likely.We'd been waiting for our autographs for over ten minutes, and the doorman _had_ said that he was usually the first to leave.It was all my brother's fault, I thought angrily.He had to run off to the bathroom the second the curtain closed, and like idiots Mom and I waited around for him, wasting five whole minutes.That would have given him plenty of time to leave before we got there.I could just kill Daniel, I thought, twisting the playbill in my hands like I was ringing my brother's neck.

"Do you want to go?" Mom ventured, knowing how much I'd wanted this autograph.I sighed.He was probably gone, almost everyone was.But still, what if we left and he came out a second later?Getting his autograph was one of the major reasons I'd chosen to see _The Music Man_ on Broadway.I didn't tell my mom that, thinking she'd think I was obsessed (which I am).I told her I wanted to get his signature for my friend Karen- and one for me, too, while we were at it, why not?I had really been looking forward to this since we'd gotten our tickets that afternoon.During lulls in the day, I'd actually gone so far as to create fantasy conversations._"Oh, so you're a _Newsies _fan?"_When dressing for the theater that night, I'd chosen to wear my new black-and-white flowered dress to this show with his reaction in mind.I was completely bonkers, and I knew it, but I couldn't help it.

"How about we wait until the next two people come out?" Mom suggested, and I agreed.Better she didn't know how obsessed her poor dear teenage daughter was, I thought.She'd be frightened for me.

The next person emerged.We thrust our playbills at her and made conversation as she scrawled her autograph across the page."Do you know," I asked casually, "if Max Casella has left yet?"My heartbeat actually quickened as I waited for her reply.Asking used to be my mother's job, but my desperation overcame my shyness and I did the asking now.

The actress shrugged."I haven't seen him, but he's usually pretty quick.Sorry."She was gone.The door opened again and I sent a silent prayer heavenward that it was him.No such luck.Some ensemble performer managed to slip out without having to sign any playbills.I bit my lip and felt very disappointed.

"That was our two," Mom said."I'll get Daniel now.Do you want to wait out here?"Part of me didn't want mom to abandon me, I was too shy, but if it gained me an extra few minutes, minutes in which he might come out?I nodded and Mom walked back inside the theater, leaving me in the thinning group outside the stage door.I knew I was being silly, if so many people thought he was already gone, well he was probably already gone.But I still hoped…

The door opened again.Darn, not him.The female lead, though, not quite as good but better than nothing.She produced her own pen and signed across her picture.I asked my usual question and she shrugged."Did you ask the doorman?"Yes.She moved on to have her picture taken with some tourists.Mom had said she would take a picture of me with Max Casella (I couldn't think of him as just Max, too informal) but I insisted that that would not be necessary.Too embarrassing.It would have been a great picture, though…And wouldn't Karen be so jealous?

Behind the actress, I saw the door swing open and someone hurried out in the opposite direction, a guy in a blue jacket, wearing a white baseball cap and sunglasses, though it was eleven o'clock at night.Could it be who I hoped it was?The doorman had said something about a baseball cap…Without thinking, I slipped behind the line of people and hurried after him, clutching my pen and playbill.

He weaved his way through the people on the sidewalk and headed toward the corner, raising his hand to call a cab.I couldn't let him get away, not when he was so close!I started jogging after him, my purse bouncing against my thigh and my black strappy sandals threatening to let me topple, (like I had fallen down the subway stairs earlier, causing a run in my hose).What was I going to do now?Call his name?I continued chasing after him, too shy to try shouting after him.Oh God, now he was going to think I was a stalker.

He turned the corner and I was afraid I would lose him, so I put on an extra burst of speed and followed, right on his heels.I slammed into somebody's back and went flying, dropping my playbill and knocking my victim off balance.

"Oh God, I'm sorry!" I said immediately, grabbing his elbow to keep him upright.I was so mortified.And when he turned to look at me- "Oh sh—oh!Mr.Cas—Max—oh jeeze!"I started babbling apologies, still clinging to his elbow and staring at him.He stared back at me as if I was a lunatic."I didn't mean to, Mr. Casella," I must have said a million times.

"Whoa, dere," he said, gently releasing his elbow from my hand's life-or-death grip and bending to pick up the hat that I had so gracefully knocked off his head.Well, I told myself, at least he's talking in his _Newsies_ accent—that much is true to your fantasies.Then I realized something.If he was picking up his hat, where were the sunglasses?And the sleeve I had been holding was white, not blue.Why was he wearing a vest and a button-up shirt?He dusted off his hat casually and tugged it on his head, and my heart froze.That was not a baseball cap.That.Was.A.Newsies.Cap.And I knew he hadn't been wearing one before.

"Whassa matta wit you, look like you seen a ghost," he said, putting his hand on my shoulder and holding me at arm's length.

"You're… You're not Max Casella," I stammered.

"Well, I coulda told you dat.Nevah hoid of 'im.Friend a yours?"

"No.You don't understand… You _were_ Max, just now, I swear… and now you're Racetrack."

He pulled his hand back and frowned suspiciously."I don't know what you're talkin' about, but how do you know my name?"

"Oh my God.I'm right.Oh my God."I was shaking like a leaf.This was unbelievable.I glanced around me, and the street was almost empty.Almost empty!It had been crowded a moment before!And the road- cobblestone!The traffic lights, the billboards, the cars- all nonexistent!When I fell, had I hit my head or something?Was I going insane?Apparently Racetrack- _Racetrack!I was talking to Racetrack!_ had the same thought, for he looked concerned, though he was still keeping his distance.

"Are you alright?How do ya know me?An' what happened to your clothes?"

"My clothes?"I glanced down at my dress and realized what he meant.Not only were my legs showing, covered only in skin-tone tights below my knee-length skirt, but that neckline was a little risqué.I stared at my chest and blushed, thinking he must think I was a hooker or something.I looked up and he was staring at my chest as well.I snapped my fingers and his head shot up."Hello, buddy, I'm up here," I told him sharply, offended but, hey, I'll admit it, also a little flattered.I wouldn't say my chest is anything remarkable, but in 1899—or whatever year this was—the fact that so much of it was showing would be enough to make anyone stare.I pulled my white cardigan tighter and buttoned a few of the top buttons self-consciously.

"When is this?" I asked him.

"Whattya mean?What time?"He reached into his pocket for his watch but I stopped him, putting my hand on his arm.

"No, I mean… What's today?The date?And the year?"

He gave me a really long look and told me it was July tenth, 1899.The date meant nothing to me, but the year made me laugh out loud and clap my hand over my mouth."Oh my God!1899?Are you for real?This is so amazing!"In my mind, Racetrack's voice started the familiar monologue: _"In 1899, the streets of New York City echoed with da voices of newsies…"_

That was it for Racetrack.He took my elbow protectively (sigh, how romantic!) "Heah, lady, I'm gonna take you to da hospital or the lodgin' house or somethin'."

I whirled around and grinned at him."The lodging house!Take me _there_!I want to see everybody!Jack, Mush, Blink, Boots, Bumlets, Dutchy, Specs, Snoddy…everybody!"

He froze."How do you know deir names?" he asked me with disbelief.

"I know everything!I know all about the strike and all of that!" I told him excitedly.

"What strike?" he asked, dropping my arm and staring at me again.

"The… The newsboy strike!Against the newspapers!With Brooklyn and everybody!You mean—there hasn't been a strike yet?"His blank stare answered my question and I laughed out loud again.

"This is… Ohmigod!"

"That's it, I'm takin' you to da hospital," he said determinedly, taking my elbow again.

"No!Not the hospital!I have to see the lodging house, I have to!"

"You need help," he told me firmly.

"No!I'm not sick, I'm not crazy," I insisted, but then I doubted my own words.I was seeing someone who had been alive 101 years ago.No, I was seeing a Disney character!Rethinking what I had said, I quickly added, "At least, I don't think."At least I'm an _honest _crazy person.

"Den what _are_ you?" he demanded, stopping to face me."If you ain't crazy and you ain't sick, how come you ran into me in dose weird clothes an' knew my name an' my friends' names and everyt'ing?"I gaped at him, seeing real fear in his eyes.God, I couldn't blame him.If the same thing had happened to me…Would he understand the truth?

"I'm… I'm from the future," I told him meekly.He stared."I am.Really."

"Dis is nuts," he said, taking my elbow and walking again.I pulled away.

"No!Let me prove it!I bet you five dollars I can tell you something about yourself that you didn't think I knew," I blurted without thinking, appealing to his gambling nature.

He stared at me skeptically."You t'ink I'm made a money?Five dollars?Nobody I know's got five dollars to waste on a bet."

"I do," I said quickly, unzipping my purse and pulling out my wallet.I passed him a five-dollar bill and his jaw dropped.He turned it over a few times like he couldn't believe he was seeing it. I had forgotten how much five dollars was to a newsie, but that wasn't his cause for amazement.

"Dis is what money'll look like?"

I nodded, watching him to see if he believed me yet.

"An' who's dis?" he asked, pointing to the face on the bill.

"Abraham Lincoln.You know, the president?"I was pretty sure I knew my history well enough to know that Abraham Lincoln had been alive before 1899.Racetrack shrugged and passed the bill back to me.I put it back in my wallet and stuck that into my purse. 

"So do you take the bet?" I asked, wanting to prove myself.He had to believe me.This was my chance to meet all the newsies!

He shook his head."I ain't got five dollars to bet."

"Fifty cents then.Four bits."

He seemed reluctant to bet even this amount of money.I guess he wasn't sure how much I knew, seeing as I'd surprised him enough by knowing his name.

"A dime," he finally said."Now tell me what you know about me."

I took a deep breath.I hadn't really thought about that.Jack, Jack would have been easy.It wasn't like Racetrack was the main character, though… "You… You love to go to the racetrack," I said lamely.

"Yeah, an' who don't know dat?You lose," he said, extending his hand expectantly.

"No, wait!" I protested, thinking fast.Damn, if only I had actually _owned_ a copy of the movie this would be simple.Where was Karen when I needed her?"Okay.You love to go to Sheepshead Races."He gave me a look like, 'keep tryin', toots'."And… and what you want more than anything is to have your own box there," I said.His look now said 'you can do betta'.But I wasn't sure I could.This was going downhill fast."Uh… You, you smoke cigars.And you sell newspapers, you sell _The World_.Your favorite place to hang out is Tibby's.You play the harmonica.You're a fan of Medda Larkson's."I looked at him desperately.

"All right, a'ready. So you know a lot about me," he finally admitted, grudgingly digging in his pocket for a dime and passing it to me.

"So do you believe me?" I asked him, holding the dime.

"Knowin' a lot about me ain't the same as bein' from the futcha," he said, shaking his head.

"I am!"

I could tell I still hadn't convinced him, but he said "C'mon, I'll take you to da lodgin' house."

I grinned and threw my arms around his neck."Thanks!"

He smiled and gently pushed me away, looking like he was going to reprimand me for my spontaneous public display of affection, but he stopped and his expression softened."Don' mention it."

I followed him like a puppy all the way to the lodging house, feeling giddy.So this probably was a dream, a really strange one at that—hadn't thought I was _that_ obsessed with this movie, obsessed enough to dream about it.But who cared whether this was real or not?It was fun while it lasted.I didn't bother pinching myself to see if I woke up or any hokey trick like that; everything else had felt real so far.

"I've got like a million questions to ask everybody," I told him eagerly.

"Questions?Sounds to me like you know plenty."

"No!There are so many things I wanna know.God, actually getting the chance to meet y'all, ask you questions, this is like the _Newsies_ fan dream come true."He looked at me like I might as well be speaking Greek for all the sense I was making, and I giggled."This is really really weird too," I added.

"It's weird for you?_You're _da one from da futcha, ain't ya?"

"But it's like… Wow… I'm in the past!" I said, unable to express myself.I stared up around me at the buildings, memorizing what they looked like.I was living in history!All day in the city that morning I had been looking at the old buildings, imagining what they would have been like in the time of the newsies.Now, I didn't have to imagine!

"_Hello_, futcha goyl," I heard Racetrack call, and I turned, realizing that in my staring I had fallen way behind.I hurried to catch up to him, apologizing.

"What's your name, anyway?Assumin' ya got one."

"Oh. I'm Margaret, sorry," I said.

"Really?I know some goyls named Margaret."He was looking at me skeptically again.

I shrugged."It's sort of an old-fashioned name, I know.I mean, like, old-fashioned for my time anyway."

"Well nice to meetcha.Even if you are some nut and not from da futcha," he added, extending his hand.I giggled and spat in mine before offering it to him.

He grinned and spat in his own palm before we shook.This was great.I was spit-shaking with Racetrack!It should have been gross—okay, it was—but still, **I was spit-shaking with Racetrack!**

"It ain't fah to da lodgin' house from heah," he said, starting to walk again.I fell in step beside him and continued staring at whatever we passed.When I lagged too far behind to gape at a horse-drawn carriage, he took my elbow again and pulled me toward him.I smiled in the darkness and let him hold my arm all the way there.This is just too cool, I thought happily.

"Heah it is, home sweet home," he said, pushing open the door.I was still staring at the sign- "Newsboys Lodging House"."You comin' in or gonna stay out dere t'night, Margaret?" I liked hearing him say my name.It seemed just right in 1899.

"I'm coming in," I said slowly, letting him pull me through the doorway while I still stared at the sign.But inside was even more interesting.The lobby (should it be called a lobby?) was just like in the movie, with the staircase and the desk and everything.Racetrack started heading up the stairs but I dawdled, staying behind to look at the registry book.Kloppman reached up and took it from me.

"Can I help you?" he asked, just the way he asked Snyder in that one scene!I laughed out loud!

"She's wit me," Racetrack said, appearing behind me and putting a hand on my shoulder.I could feel him trying to pull me back with him but I just grinned at Kloppman like an idiot.This had to prove it, prove I was in 1899, (or at least, Disney's version of 1899.That was something to think about later) that here was another _Newsies_ character live and in person.Live?Wait; don't think about that either, I'd get a headache.

Kloppman shook his head and pointed to the clock over his head."It's too late," he told Racetrack gruffly."No girls over after eleven."

Race and I exchanged a look.I tried to do my puppy-dog eyes and he turned back to Kloppman.

"But she's my cousin."

Kloppman shook his head."Not a chance.She looks even less like you dan your last 'cousin'," he said with a chuckle.I frowned.I would have thought Racetrack would be a better liar. Who would believe a blond-haired, blue-eyed Italian?The only thing we had in common was our height.

Racetrack pulled me away from the desk and we held a whispered conference.

"Sorry," he said."Kloppman's apparently not in a great mood t'day.Maybe tomorra, alright?"

"Tomorrow?I don't even know if I'll still be here tomorrow," I hissed, and Racetrack held a finger to my lips to shush me.I continued, more quietly."Look, I dunno how I got here, I dunno when or how or if I'm going back, but goddammit I'm going to meet all the newsies before I do!"

Looking a little shocked at my language, Race shrugged."Alright.Alright.I'm gonna hafta sneak you in, den.Go around da back, I'll see you by da fiah escape."

"Fine," I said, and Racetrack stepped away.

"G'night, den," he said, loud enough for Kloppman (who was watching us intently) to hear.

"G'night, _cuz_," I said, smiling.

Racetrack went up the stairway and I left the building and circled around the back.I waited below the fire escape, noticing how the ladders stopped several feet off the ground.We didn't have fire escapes back home in South Carolina, and this was new to me.Shortly, Racetrack appeared on the stairs a flight above, and bent over the rail to see me.I waved, and he disappeared, reappearing a moment later on the landing closest to me.

"Grab dis," he said, tossing a rope down to me.A rope?Was it Jack's rope? I wondered, wrapping it around my hand.

I heard a second voice above me and noticed that there was another boy with Race.I squinted and tried to guess. Was it Blink, or Jack maybe?

"Goin' up," Race's voice said, and the two boys began pulling on the rope.I leaned back and once they got me off the ground, used the side of the wall to walk up until I was level with the bottom rung of the ladder.They swung me over and I was safely on the ladder, my hand was throbbing from rope-burn.I climbed up the ladder and joined them on the landing.

"Hey, Margaret, meet my friend," Racetrack said.

"Kid Blink!" I said, enthusiastically shaking his hand."You're even cuter in person," I blurted, and immediately blushed.He didn't say anything, just gaped at me, and then Racetrack.

"I told ya she'd know who you were," Race said with a shrug.Blink frowned and passed over a quarter.

"Last time I make a bet wit you," he said sullenly.

Race smirked."Dat's what you say _every_ time."

"When can I meet everyone else?" I interrupted, sounding like a little kid but who cares?

"Right now, if you want," Race said, starting up the stairs.I followed, and Blink came behind me.We got to a window, and Racetrack pushed it open."Aftah you," he said (so gentlemanly!Wow, girls had it great back then!).So I slid through the window and landed in the bunk room of the lodging house!It was incredible.Just like in the movie too, bunks all over the place, cute boys sprawled across them, too.They all turned to stare at me when they heard me land, and behind me Racetrack and Blink entered, too.

"Who's dis?"I turned toward the voice to see Jack get up off a bunk, dressed just like in the movie, with his bandana and everything.Racetrack passed him back the rope (ha!So I'd been right, it was Jack's rope!) and said, "Dis is me new friend from da futcha, Margaret."

The guys all laughed, Jack included."Yeah?From da futcha ya say, Race?"He grinned over his shoulder at all the boys who were gathering around.

"Yeah she's from da futcha.Why don'tcha tell 'em all deir names, Margaret."Racetrack was confident they would believe me, and the look on his face told me so.I took a deep breath and stepped up, pointing to them one by one as I went down the row.

"Bumlets, Specs, Mush, Snoddy—you're Snoddy, right?"He nodded, looking bewildered, and I felt very relieved."Jake, Boots, Snipeshooter, Dutchy, Itey, uhh…" I faltered, stuck on the one newsie I always forget.Pie Eater?Luckily, Racetrack saved me from looking like an idiot.

"I'd say she knows us," he said, clapping me on the shoulder.Everyone was staring at me, their jaws dropping in surprise.

"What is dis, Race, some kinda trick?" Boots finally asked.

"No trick," I said, spreading my hands innocently."I'm just… I'm from the year 2000."I decided not to elaborate that they were the subjects of one of my favorite movies.I'd have to explain about movies then, wouldn't I?Not to mention that Race had said they hadn't gone on strike yet.

Some of the newsies gave each other skeptical looks and snorted, but a few only looked more amazed.They gathered closer, firing off questions.

"What's it like in da futcha?"

"Whattya got in dat purse dere?"

"How come you're dressed so weird?"

I was feeling a little overwhelmed until Race pulled me out of the cluster."We gotta get you dressed decent now, don't we?"

Several of the guys objected quickly.

"What's da matta wit how she's dressed?" Mush asked innocently.

"Nice try," Jack said, shaking his head."Race is right, we gotta get 'er some clothes.Race, she about your size?"

We were close the same height, (he's so short! It's adorable!) so Racetrack dug up some clothes and handed them over to me, pointing the way to the bathrooms.I was pleased; I'd always thought Racetrack had great fashion sense.But I gave the clothes a surreptitious sniff as I walked over.Good, they smelled like they were fresh out of the washing machine.Definitely I was in the Disney version of 1899. 

I got dressed (with a little difficulty) in my new clothes, and tugged at my vest, wishing there was a mirror handy to admire myself in.Suspenders, a vest, those billowy sleeves—now all I needed was to bum a cap off of somebody and I really had the look.I did a little dance in the privacy of the stall and then, my old clothes and purse in hand, exited back into the bunkroom.

Jack, Racetrack, and a few of the other older boys were standing in a small group, talking quietly.Racetrack noticed me and said something to the others, and their conversation quickly ended.

"Were you talking about me?" I demanded, walking closer.

Mush and Blink tried to give me, "Who, me?" looks, but Jack told me straight up."Yeah, we was. We'se tryin' to figure out what to do with ya."

I gave him a look."Well I can figure out what to do with myself, thanks."

"No offense," Race started, "but you're either completely insane or you've nevah been in dis century b'fore.I think you should drop da 'Miss Capability' act and let some people who know what's goin' on handle da situation."

I was embarrassed, but he was right."Fine," I grumbled."Where do I go tonight?"

"You got money, right?" Jack asked.

"Some," I replied.Wait, my idea of 'some'—$50—was more than a newsie could make in a month.In three months."Well, a lot, really," I amended.

"So you could pay for a hotel, right?"

"Sure," I had to admit.Dang, and I really wanted to stay there.

"So tonight," Race said, "we'll put you up heah.Tomorrow you get your own place, a'right?"

"Great!" I said, pleased."Now where can I put my stuff?"

My dress, sandals, and stockings—and those got some weird looks from the guys—got folded and stuck on some shelf.Somebody, I think it was Snitch but that's another one of those guys whose names I screw up, gallantly offered their bunk for my use, so I sat down on it and dump my purse out on the mattress to take stock of what I had with me.A pen, a tube of lipstick, two receipts, a brush (thank God!), a hair holder, some small change, my wallet with the $50 and my phone card and library card.Okay, so some of it would be of use in 1899, some of it was completely useless.I swept it all back into the purse, after pocketing a five-dollar bill, and tossed the purse under my bed.I was on the bottom bunk.

Racetrack came over to check on me as I was brushing my hair up into a ponytail."Dis'll be okay for ya?" he asked.

"Dis—I mean, this is great," I said, and giggled at my mistake.

"Alright den.You gonna get up at da crack of dawn wit us, or should we let you sleep?"

"Wake me up!" I said, delighted.And believe me, I'd never been so eager to wake up early in my life."I want to see what selling papers is like!I want to hawk the headlines!I want to go to Tibby's and order fifteen-cent sauerkraut!I want to ride in a carriage!I'll help you sell your papers!"I stopped myself, realizing I must sound really messed up.

But Racetrack just cracked a grin at me."Weirdo," he said, shaking his head, before heading away to his bunk at the other side of the room.I smiled and wrapped my arms around myself.I was almost afraid to fall asleep, fearing that I would wake up again in the hotel bed in New York City, 2000, and it would all have been a dream.But, as excited as I was, it didn't take long for me to drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning I woke to the sound of singing.I yawned, buried my face in the pillow, and automatically reached beside me to hit the 'off' button on my CD player alarm clock.But my hand fumbled around on the table beside me without feeling the smooth plastic button of the CD player.And the singing continued.

"It's a fine life, carryin' the banner tough and—ow!"

My eyes flew open and I sat up fast.Crouching beside my bed, Boots rubbed his eye and smacked my hand away."What'd you hit me for?" he demanded over the continuing music.

"Sorry," I said automatically.I blinked a few more times."Oh my god, what's going on?"

"We'se all gettin' up," he told me, sounding like I should have been able to figure this out, seeing as all the newsies were dressing and shaving and getting ready."An' you should be, too, if you wanna sell papes wit us."

Only then did everything else sink in.I was still back in the past!All right!I clambered out of bed and found that I was still wearing Racetrack's clothes from the day before.Oh well, they were wrinkled, but clean enough.I worked a brush through my tangled hair, redid my ponytail, and hurried down the stairs just on the heels of the last newsie.As Kloppman counted me passing by, he looking confused for a brief moment, but I was out the door before he could react.But I was too far behind the rest of the newsies, I could only see them ahead, leaping over barrels and dancing as they went.Curse Boots for letting me sleep until the last minute!I'd make it in time to sell the papers, but I had had no time to drool over the half-dressed boys, and now I was missing all the dancing.

I only caught up with everyone in time to elbow my way into the crowd surrounding Jack's fight with the Delanceys.It was the weirdest feeling of déjà vu, let me tell you, to see the exact same fight moves that I'd watched so many times before, only now I was watching it from right in the middle of the crowd.And the strangest thing was how the music ran in the background the whole time, and nobody thought anything of it.From listening to the soundtrack so often, I knew every word and jumped in at the right times.

I didn't find Race again until after the music was over and he had bought his papers.He came up to me, handing half the stack over, as Jack went to talk to some guy in a blue shirt."Hey," I said, peering over Racetrack's shoulder, "that's Davey and Les, isn't it?"

"What, you know 'em?" Race asked.

"Don't you?" I replied, confused.

"He must be new around 'ere," Race said with a shrug.How weird!Did that mean this was the first day we met David—which meant the day before the strike?I glanced down at my papers.There was that headline: "Trolley Strike Drags on for Third Week".Just reading it, I heard Pulitzer in my head, saying, "_and this so-called headline drags on for eternity_."I skimmed the other pages.Sure enough, there was the two-headed baby story, and, on page nine, 'trash fire next to immigration building terrifies seagulls.'So it must be that same day, I realized with excitement.

"You comin', Margaret?" Race asked, a few feet ahead."You said you was gonna help me sell my papes."

"Oh, yeah," I said, folding up my paper and jamming it under my arm before hurrying to catch up with him.

The rest of the day, I got to sell papers with one of my favorite newsies.The whole time I was thinking, _I feel like a walking, talking, Mary Sue_, but it was real and it was happening.I felt the crowd jostling me, I smelled fish and factories in the air, I got splattered with mud when a carriage drove through a puddle.I knew enough to realize there weren't supposed to be any puddles until that night, but in the Disney _Newsies_ universe, if it can be dusty dry after a rainstorm, why not wet before?

I didn't make the best newsie—Race was always having to jerk my sleeve and get my attention when I stopped and stared and something new.But I could improve the truth with the best of them, and after I wheedled him into giving me his cap to cover my hair, nobody even gave me a second look for being a girl.And I got to eat lunch at Tibby's!The food sucked, but it was so cheap I bought everyone free drinks all around, which was much appreciated.

Since it was two of us selling, we finished up early, and Race took me to the tracks.I was so caught up in the excitement that only when the race was over and Racetrack was groaning about his loss did I remember that I should have told him that his hot tip wasn't really all that hot.To make it up to him, I treated him to dinner, and then he showed me to a hotel.That's when we got stuck in the rain so we borrowed somebody's deck of cards and played poker awhile.I've never been any good at that game, so after he'd relieved me of almost a dollar in losses, I taught him Egyptian Ratscrew and Mau and we even got the landlord's children to join us in playing B.S.After the rain cleared up and we realized it was dark already, Racetrack said he'd better head home.

"You gonna sell wit me tomorra, too?" he asked before he left.

A grin crept across my face as I realized I knew something he didn't know."Sure," I replied."I'll meet you in the square in the morning."

The newsies strike!And I was going to be there to see the whole thing. 

More to come!Now review what I've got so I won't give up on this thing.::smiles sweetly::


	2. Day Two

Day Two

"I thought you wasn't gonna show up," Racetrack observed as I ran into the square, late again.

"It's okay," I said, snatching his hat off his head."Jack's gonna be late too."He gave me one of his looks that said, "how _did_ you know that?" but I just crammed my tangled hair up into his hat and smiled.

Ahead of us, we could hear outraged shouts."They must have just found out," I said, grabbing Racetrack's hand and pulling him behind me.

"Found out what?" he asked, bewildered, as I tugged him into line.

"What _is_ dis?" someone howled.

"Dey can't be serious!"

"Somebody tell me dey're jokin'.Just tell me it's a joke."

"It betta be!"

Dutchy counted his change and moved up to the window, muttering.

"No, wait!" I shouted, jumping in front of him to stop him."What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?Buyin' my rotten papes.For sixty cents a freakin' hundred…" he added, glowering.

"No, don't do it!Nobody do anything 'til Jack shows up!"I looked around to make sure the rest of the gathered newsies heard me.

"What's this about, Margaret?" Race asked, behind me.

"Just don't, okay?"Some of them looked uncertain, but sank down onto the steps to await Jack's arrival.

A few minutes later he finally arrived.From where I lingered at the back of the crowd, I heard Blink's whiny "They jacked up the price!" speech, and all that followed it.Racetrack noticed me mouthing along, and gave me a funny look.I stopped with a guilty smile.I think sometimes I weirded him out, when I knew stuff like that.I got the feeling he believed me about coming from the future—how could he not have?—but he liked to sort of accept it without thinking about it too much.Still smiling apologetically, I drifted away toward the back of the crowd.I knew Race had some lines coming up, after all.I didn't know what it would do to the movie or anything, to have me screwing up the scenes.I had decided to try to keep things running just like in the movie, because anyone who's ever seen _Back to the Future_ knows that stuff you do in the past can majorly screw up the future.

And I was also like Racetrack._I_ knew I was from the future, but I didn't like thinking about it too much, either.

I hung around the edges of the crowd as we followed Jack to the statue, and pushed thoughts of time traveling out of my head as I joined in loud and proud in "The World Will Know".It was so incredible, feeling this big rush as everyone decided to strike.It was Jack, I could tell, who was making us all so excited about it.That guy's got serious charisma.If we'd been singing instead about jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge like lemmings, I would have been the first one to cannonball into the water.

Afterwards, Jack split up his 'ambastards' and sent us out into the city.I tagged along with Racetrack to Midtown.

"So who's the Midtown leader?" I asked as we walked.

"A guy by da name of Joey Crow," he told me."I've known him a long time."

"So how come you picked Midtown?"Personally, I knew I would have picked Brooklyn… If I'd stuck around while Jack was looking for volunteers, I would have been the first to shout, "Hey, we ain't scared of Brooklyn!"Oh well, I'd get to meet Spot soon enough.

"Like I said, Joey an' me go way back.Grew up in da same neighborhood."He stopped, seeing a kid with some papers on the corner.

"Hey, Marbles," he greeted him."You know where Joey's at?"

"I'd check down by da warehouse, Race," the young boy responded, showing a chipped tooth as he talked."'Cos I ain't seen 'im around much today."

"Thanks," Race said, and we headed on, presumably in the direction of the warehouse.When we got there, a few boys smoking out front recognized Racetrack and there were handshakes all around.

"Say, fellas, is Joey around?" he asked shortly.

"I'se right heah, Race," a voice came from the doorway.I don't know what I was expecting—something along the lines of Spot Conlon, I guess, but that's not what I saw.Joey Crow wasn't very tall, and really kind of puny looking, scrawny and pale with brownish-red hair.When he walked down the steps, I noticed one of his ankles twisted funny, and gave him a slight limp, but he walked without the aid of a cane.Definitely not intimidating, but somehow I could sense that he was stronger than he looked.Maybe not physically, but in other ways. 

He smiled and spit-shook with Racetrack."Good ta see ya, Racetrack," he said, then saw me and tipped his hat."Who's da lady?"

"Dis is Margaret, a new friend a mine.Margaret, dis is Joey Crow, leadah of Midtown."

"Nice to meet you," I said politely, and we shook hands.

"So, what brings you to Midtown?" Joey asked, leaning against the wall."Business or pleasure?"

"Business, actually, Joey," Racetrack said."I guess da Joinal raised deir papes price too?"

"Yep," an anonymous boy answered."Up ten cents a hundred."

Joey nodded his head."Hearst's out ta gouge us, just like Pulitzah," he said."So I guess you Manhattan boys want ta do somethin' about it."

"Dat's right," Race said."Jack's got the idea dat we can go on strike.You know, refuse to sell any papes.He thinks dat without us, da newspapers won't make any money, and dey'll hafta give in.But to make dis really work, we're gonna need every newsie in New Yawk."

Joey nodded again, slowly."Anyone else agreed to it yet?"

"You're da first, Crow."

He seemed to consider this.I liked Joey Crow, what I knew of him.He seemed thoughtful, and smart.He was obviously more powerful than he looked, to be the leader of a territory even with his handicap.I mean, imagine Crutchy as leader of Manhattan—ah!No!Bad thought!DON'T imagine that.I shook my head vigorously to get the idea out of my head.When I tuned back into the conversation, it looked like they were just about wrapping things up.

"Well I'm gonna talk to all da guys about it, a course.But if dey all feels da way I feels, you can count Midtown in."

"Thanks, Joey," Racetrack said, shaking hands."I knew we could count on youse."

"You come back sometime soon, Race," Joey called after us."We'll play some cards.Bring your friend too!"

"I'll do dat!" Race called back, and I waved over my shoulder.

"Nice meeting you, Joey!"

Racetrack smiled at me."So, dat went well.You up for some lunch?"

He introduced me to the fine dining of a Midtown hot dog stand, and we ate sitting on the grass of a small park.

"It's so peaceful," I said, wadding my wrapper into a ball."No cars or traffic or anything."

"Mmmn," Racetrack responded, leaning back on the ground.After a few moments' thoughtful silence, he added, "and I have no idea what you're talkin' about."

I smiled and leaned back on my elbows in the grass, watching a horse-drawn wagon roll by.It was so serene and the sun was so warm on my face, it wasn't long before I nodded off to sleep.

Racetrack woke me some time later."We gotta get back," he said."Dey'll be wanting to hear from us."

"Oh yeah," I said groggily, rubbing my eyes and hoping I didn't have grass imprints on my face.I brushed some grass clippings off of my pants, settled Race's cap on his head, and we headed back to Manhattan.

Everyone lounged around the statue, talking and playing marbles and making signs.Racetrack joined a game of marbles, but since I hadn't the slightest idea how to play, I helped with the signs, serving as general spell-checker.

"You're not gonna have room for the E," I directed someone."And Specs, you've got the I and the K swapped."

"Oops," he said, his brush dripping white all over the board.

I shook my head."Well you killed it.Use the other side, why don't you?"

We all looked up from our work when Jack, Boots, and David re-entered the square.Already knowing what they were going to say, I painted out a sign while they relayed the news from Brooklyn.Still in a lazy mood from my nap, I stayed behind the statue while everyone danced to "Seize the Day".I mean, let's face it, the choreography in that is pretty fruity.So I sang along and painted signs.

The second I could hear the circulation bell ringing, though, I scrambled to my feet.

"Anybody hear dat?"

"No!"

"So what're we gonna do about it?"

I joined the crowd just in time to shout, "Soak 'em!"Together with all the other newsies, I ran off to wreak havoc on the World.

And wow, I thought going crazy on the papers looked fun in the movie, but it was fantastic in real life.I shredded papers into confetti and threw stuff around and even managed to toss a tomato or two.Reckless and wanton vandalism, baby.But right when it was getting fun, I heard the shrill police whistle.

"Oh, crap!"I jump off a stack of papers and grab Race's arm."Beat it, Race!"

He shoved me ahead of him and out the gates.Even in the panic, I took a second to thrill at the chivalry of it all.Women and children first!But I remembered something, and as I ran, I turned and shouted over my shoulder."Race!Get Crutchy!"

He nodded and turned back toward the gates as I sprinted on ahead.Somehow, though, I knew that no matter what I did, he wouldn't get Crutchy in time.I was right.Later in the lodging house, Race was feeling really bad about it.

"I shoulda remembered him soona," he berated himself, throwing his cap on his bed.

"Forget it Race," I told him, trying to sound comforting."It wasn't your fault he didn't notice."

"Dey musta took him to da Refuge," Jack said, coming up behind us and looping his rope over his shoulder."Don't sweat it, Race.Me and Davey'll bust him outta dere."

"Alright, Jack," Blink said, clapping him on the back.Several others called their support as Jack headed out.

Racetrack shrugged, not really looking any happier."Yeah, he'll get 'im," he said."C'mon, Margaret.I'll see ya to your place."

He walked me back to my hotel, and we agreed to meet out in the square again the next morning.I waved goodbye from my window as I watched him walk down the cobblestone street, under the light of the streetlamps.Then, exhausted from my long day, I tumbled into bed and fell fast asleep.


	3. Day Three

Chapter Three: Day Three

_A/N: I just realized… I should have titled this story "How I Spent My Summer Vacation"…Hyuk hyuk.Sorry for the delay for this chapter, I was away from my computer for three weeks.__Hope it doesn't disappoint, after all that waiting.Please keep reviewing and expect more soon!_

I met Race in the square, just as we had agreed upon.He tossed me half his breakfast roll and we started toward the gates, where the other newsies were gathered, listening to Jack.I couldn't wait to hear them sing the chorale, but right now it looked like Jack was still just warming them up.

"A'right, listen up!" he shouted."In a minute, dey's gonna open da gates.An' whatta we gotta do?"

"Soak da scabbahs!" came the loud response.

"Right!Seize da day!Nobody messes wit da newsies!"

Racetrack tapped my shoulder."Hey, Margaret, you shoah you wanna stick around?Dis could get ugly."

And he didn't know the half of it.I pictured the grown men with their chains and clubs and gulped.Yay for seizing the day and everything, but what difference could whether I fought or not really make?So long as they had Brooklyn…

"That's actually a good idea, Race," I admitted."I'll just, uh, find you later."

He looked relieved that I had actually agreed for once, and went to join the other newsies.I was feeling like a bit of a chicken, and I bit at a hangnail worriedly.What if, by some fluke, Brooklyn _didn't _come?Maybe I wasn't going to fight, but I could still help.I caught David by the sleeve.

"Hey, Davey, where would I go to find Spot?"

"The piers by the Brooklyn Bridge, I guess," he replied, looking surprised."Why?"

"Which way?"

He pointed down a street and looked confused."What are you—"

"Thanks, Davey, you're a pal!" I called over my shoulder as I jogged off in the direction he had indicated.

I crossed the Brooklyn Bridge—no time to shout over the side, unfortunately, and found a group of newsboys hanging out at the docks.

"Well well well, what's dis?" I heard someone say, and several newsies stood up, seeing me.

"I'm here to talk to Spot," I said, trying not to sound as intimidated as I felt.

"Oh yeah?Is dat so?" one of them challenged me, stepping up closer.

I swallowed and fought the urge to step back."I've got word from Jack Kelly."

Some of the newsies looked at each other, as if unsure whether or not they could believe me.

"What's goin' on, boys?" I heard, and I relaxed, never so happy to hear Spot's voice.The newsboys quickly split to either side as Spot approached through the middle of the crowd.He swaggered up to me, holding his cane, and looked me over.

"Woid from Jacky-boy, you say?" he asked me.

"Uh, yeah.Kind of.It's like, you said they'd have to show you that they were gonna stick with this strike thing, and… and they are.The thing is, today they're going to be faced with a little more than they can handle, and if they don't get some outside help, things are looking pretty bad."

He crossed his arms and gave me that Spot Conlon Look.If it wasn't so scary in person, I would have melted into a little Margaret puddle."And what's dis gotta do wif me?" he said, cocking one eyebrow.

"Well Spot, if you wanna see that Jack's newsies are gonna stick it out no matter what comes their way, you're gonna round up your newsies and run over there to help them out.But then, if you're _scared_…"I drew out the last word and tried to shoot his look right back at him.

He leaned forward, raising his stick at me, and gave me a hard look."Didn't nobody say we was scared," he said.

"Then you're coming," I said.

He seemed to be thinking it over."Den we are," he finally said, and I fought the urge to fling my arms around him.You just don't do that to Spot Conlon.

It wasn't long before he had rounded up every newsie in Brooklyn—they seemed to spend all their time hanging around the docks anyway, nevermind selling papers—and we headed toward Manhattan, Spot at the lead.I ran ahead and showed up at the circulation desk right in the thick of the fight.

Blink grabbed me right off."Margaret!What're you doin' heah?Bumlets, you take 'er and get 'er outta heah."

"No, wait!" I tried to protest, as Bumlets caught me by my elbow.Damn this chivalry mess!

"You hafta go," Bumlets said, trying to pull me away."Dis is no fight for you."

Then, cue the trumpets, and the Brooklyn boys appeared on the roof, slingshots in hand.

"It's Brooklyn!" I heard Mush yelling, and we all took up the cry.Momentarily, slingshot stones were raining down on the fight like bullets, hitting our attackers with precise aim.I even punched some guy in the ear (okay, I'll admit I was aiming for his nose) before the fight was won.When the others heard it was me who brought Brooklyn, I was practically crushed in a massive group hug.Then Denton appeared with his camera and, typically, I got knocked to the back of the crowd as the flash went off.

"Dis calls for a celebration!" Jack yelled over us.We cheered and headed off toward Tibby's, practically dancing all the way.It was the coolest thing at Tibby's, I was treated like some kind of hero or something.Everyone fought over who got to buy me a drink, though I suspect the money was really Denton's.After we ate, Spot leaned over the table and asked how exactly I knew there was going to be trouble.

"Uhh… woman's intuition?" I suggested, flashing a grimace of a smile.All the Manhattan guys, being in on it, grinned like mad.

Jack leaned over and his face was deliciously close to mine as he said, "It's been pretty useful havin' you around, Margaret."I flushed with happiness and mentally recorded the moment.Then Racetrack reached between us to grab a sarsaparilla and Jack had to move to the side.Just as well, I guess, seeing as I am, unfortunately, aware of the fact that in the end, my dear Jack _does_ end up with Sarah.I had a brief joyful moment of plotting how to sabotage that relationship, but remembered my resolve not to screw with the movie plot.Dangitall.

I thought for a moment about what I had done, going to get Brooklyn.They would have come, wouldn't they, even if I hadn't gone?It didn't seem like they had been planning on it.What if, somehow, just the fact that I was here with them had caused some sort of rupture in the _Newsies_ universe?They say a butterfly fluttering its wings on one side of the Pacific can cause a hurricane on the other, or something like that.Could it be that my presence had caused enough tiny little chain reactions that Brooklyn _wouldn't_ have come, which would mean the newsies would have lost that fight, possibly been jailed, some of them maybe even—gulp—_killed_, and the strike lost?Ay yi yi yi yi.Now instead of just making sure I didn't screw the movie up, I was going to have to watch every step of the way and keep it running as it was supposed to.What a weight to put on my shoulders.

Luckily, these thoughts were put on hold as Denton entered the restaurant, newspaper in hand.All _right_, my favorite part of the movie!The music started to play—I will never understand how they can just ignore it, (when you ask them about it, they all go, "What music?")—and I got up on a chair and danced away my troubles.

When we were done, we all crowded around the table to make plans for the rally, which everyone thought was a great idea, but made me feel kind of nervous, knowing how it ended.But then the waiter brought a tray of drinks (I think only Kid Blink and myself noticed that Mush didn't get one, ha!) and I raised my glass in a cheer to Denton just like everyone else.

I was back at the lodging house later, working on signs as usual, when Snyder came in to look for Jack.I held my breath and stayed hidden behind the crowd, my heart catching in my throat when Jack slipped around behind Snyder's turned back.If he'd gotten caught… but he didn't, and I could breathe again when he had left.Left to go sleep outside of Sarah's room, I remembered sourly, but at least he was safe.Soon after, Blink and Mush walked me to my hotel, and I fell into bed.

I was thinking too much to sleep.Everything I'd thought about in Tibby's was churning through my mind again like dirty socks on spin cycle.I almost felt that I should go home right then, lest I should interfere with the movie more, but then how did I know if things would sort themselves out?Plus, how _would_ I get home?My throat seized up with fear when I realized I had no way of getting back to the year 2000.It's not like I came in a time machine or anything.Sure, it was great seeing all the newsies practically 24/7, but eventually I _would_ want to get home, see my family, my pets, my computer, take a _nice long shower_.But I felt my thoughts begin to slow as I got sleepier and sleepier, and resolved that I would think about it tomorrow.


	4. Day Four

A knock came at the door, and before I could say, "Come in

A knock came at the door, and before I could say, "Come in!" I heard the door swing open.I looked up from my work to see Racetrack sticking his head in, his cap in his hands.

"Hey, Margaret.You didn't show dis mornin', so I came to see what was up."How sweet!

"Actually," I told him, "I'm not going to come demonstrate today."

"Yeah?Well what're you doin', den?"He crossed over to my desk and tried to steal a look over my shoulder.I leaned my elbow over the paper, shielding it from his eyes while trying not to look too obvious about it.

"I've got some stuff to buy," I told him truthfully."I'll catch up with you at lunch, okay?"

He paused, and played with his hat."Well, if you're shoah you know your way around an' all…"

I took his cap and pulled it on—it's become automatic."A course," I replied, in my best NY accent."An' when I'se finished, I'll meet ya at da restaurant."

"Okay, den," he agreed, and tried to get one more look at the paper before heading out the door.When he was gone, I slid my elbow off the page and looked over it.I'd been making a list of all the newsies I'd befriended over the last few days.Everyone had been so nice to me, I'd decided to use my dwindling cash supply to buy them each a present.Next to a few names I'd jotted some ideas, but next to Racetrack's there was nothing but a big fat question mark.He'd been so great the whole time, taking me under his wing so to speak.I definitely wanted to get him something great, but what?

I tapped my pencil against the desk and leaned back in my chair.Newsies don't exactly have a whole lot of belongings, so you'd think it would be easy to get them a gift.But it really only makes it harder.What do you get the man who has nothing, right?I doodled a little face with an eyepatch next to Blink's name, but my mind was still on Racetrack.I hummed idly as I drew."A pair a new shoes with matching laces," I sang under my breath.Suddenly I sat up so quick I almost fell out of my chair.Why hadn't I thought of it sooner?I pulled on my boots, grabbed my purse, and headed out the door, the song still on my lips.

I spent the whole morning getting the presents ready.Most everybody got some cheap candy or a deck of cards or some new marbles, nothing expensive.And I bought a whole stack of notecards, planning to write a personal note to each of the guys.It was a long walk out to the races to make a few arrangements, and then back to my room to write out the cards.An hour later, my hand was cramping up terribly, not to mention streaked all over with ink—how _do_ they write with those stupid pens?—but I was halfway through the stack.A glance at my watch told me it was just after twelve, so I hurried to Tibby's.

"Hey Margaret," a chorus of voices greeted me as I entered.

Mush handed me a glass."We missed ya dis mawnin'," he said, kicking a chair out from the table for me.

"I was busy," I said airily.Time to change the subject."So how're the plans for the rally coming?"

Everyone started talking about it—who was coming and what they were wearing and who was bringing which girl.Of course, they'd made arrangements to hold it at Medda's place.I couldn't help but catch some of their enthusiasm, though I knew how the night would end.

"You'se coming, right, Margaret?" Boots asked me.

"Of course," I said, and smiled."Wouldn't miss it."Even if it did mean getting beat up… arrested… I flinched slightly but forced myself to smile wider.

"You rememba Joey Crow, right Margaret?" Race asked, pulling up a chair beside me and stealing his hat back.

"Sure I do," I responded, remembering the thoughtful Midtown leader with the twisted foot."Is he going to be there?"

"_Everybody's_ gonna be dere," Blink said."Shy Guy an' Soda an' Fists Malone an' Streater an' Knocks an' everybody."Yeah, like those names meant anything to me.The boys started talking excitedly again and I ordered a roast beef sandwich.

"We'se plannin' on goin' around six," Racetrack told me when he saw me getting up to leave."How's about I meet ya at your place just b'fore?"

The other boys all went, "Oooh," and elbowed each other like they were reading something into it.I rolled my eyes and said, "Sure, Race.See you then."I left to go finish writing out the cards.

I abandoned the cards and started getting ready around five o'clock.In my shopping that morning I had also stopped by the dressmaker's and bought something, 1899-style.The dressmaker didn't seem to know what to make of the fact that I didn't own a corset, even if I was only fourteen, and thought my bra was outrageously indecent.Since I'm planning on not staying much longer, I said "No thanks" to buying her fancy underwear, and just got a simple red dress.The red, also, she almost had a fit over, but if she didn't want people to wear it why was she selling it?People always tell me I look good in red.

I took a bath and washed my hair the best I could and spent a long time brushing it out sleek and straight.I was just applying my lipstick when I heard Racetrack's knock at the door.

I capped the lipstick, checked my teeth in the vanity mirror, and hurried to answer it."I was just finishing getting ready," I told him, pulling on my shoes."I'm ready now."

"You look great," he said, looking me over."I'd forgotten what you liked like in a dress."

"Whah, thank you, dahling," I replied in a Southern accent, and linked my arm through his."Let's get this show on the road."

As we walked to Medda's, I remembered the first time I had walked these 1899 streets, and how strange everything had looked to me.Now, I had only been here four days, but it seemed so ordinary and familiar.There were the cobblestone streets, there were the old-fashioned shops and stalls, there was a horse and carriage.I had grown accustomed to it so easily, it was clear I had always been a Victorian girl at heart.And eventually, I was going to have to leave it… That's why I had been getting all those presents for the guys.But tonight, I was determined not to dwell on my leaving.I hadn't even told Racetrack that I planned to, and now wasn't the time to bring it up.He kept glancing over at me and smiling as we walked in silence, and he seemed to be in such a good mood.

Outside Medda's, the streets were teeming with newsies, and Race seemed to know most of them.I got introduced to so many guys, I stopped even trying to listen for the names, knowing I would never be able to keep them straight.We ran into Joey Crow outside the entrance.

"Racetrack!Margaret!" he greeted us, walking over. I noticed a slight rocking motion to his steps as he favored his left foot.I suddenly thought of the fight to come, and wondered how fast he could run.

"Heya Joey.Nice turnout, huh?" Race said.

Joey nodded."Didn't think dere _was_ so many newsies," he agreed."Dere's Jack ovah dere, wit your fellas.Say, who's dat goil he's with?"

Race craned his neck to look over, and so did I."Well, it must be da infamous Sarah Jacobs we been hearin' so much about," he said.

"But if you ask me, she looks more like Little Bo Peep," I said, and immediately bit my tongue.I was about to apologize but the boys were laughing.

"You're right, she sure does," Joey agreed, and slapped my back."Well, whattaya say we head inside?"We followed him in as we heard music cueing up from indoors.Several other Midtown newsies joined up with us as we all went to sit together, and I was subjected to even more introductions.I ended up on Racetrack's right, with Joey on my other side.

Jack started things off with the speeches, and Davey and Spot joined him.At one point even Joey went up to say a few words, and from the way the theater immediately fell silent I knew he was a widely respected leader.

"I don't got much ta say dat dese otha fellas ain't already said," he started."But for one thing, I don't think da 'big boys' know who dey're messin' wif, wif us newsies."The crowd started to cheer and he raised a hand for silence."People look at us, and dey don't think we got what it takes.An' dat's what we're heah ta do.Show Hearst an' Pulitzah an' da othah muck-a-mucks dat we might not be as smaht, or as old, or as rich, but we got what it takes ta win dis thing!"The newsies roared their approval and Spot and Jack clapped him on the back approvingly.When he came back to sit with us, there were handshakes and backslaps all around, and I tousled his hair.

I bent over by his ear so he could hear me over the noisy crowd."That was awesome," I whispered."Really cool."

He gave me a quizzical look."You speakin' English?"

I snorted and covered my mouth, trying not to laugh.Racetrack glanced over at me but didn't say anything.I think he's gotten used to the oddities of his 'futcha goil'.

Then the music struck up and there was the redhaired songbird herself.Oh damn!I thought.Already?Everyone started swaying to the music and belting out the lyrics, but I was starting to feel panicky.Who can blame me?When I glanced at Race, the shot of him being dragged away, unconscious, flashed behind my eyes.I began to feel almost sick with nervousness.And then I glanced at Joey, singing and swaying with everyone else, and remembered how he walked, his laborious limping gait.What would happen to him when the police showed up?Maybe I couldn't interfere with Race's fate, no matter how much I wanted to, but maybe, Joey…

I grabbed his arm, startling him and interrupting him, mid-note."Whattya want?" he asked.

"Come outside with me," I said, standing and offering him a hand up.

"What?No!What for?"

"Please, just come," I begged, my voice coming out strained and whiny.People were starting to shout for me to sit down and stop blocking their view."Come on, Joey.Please."

"Siddown!" everyone shouted from behind."Crow, just go wit 'er already!"

Joey finally gave in and got to his feet."What're you all woiked up about?" he asked, as I started to pull him by his hand."Jeeze, Margaret, wait a minute, will ya?"

I ignored him and shoved people aside as I headed for the brightly lit EXIT signs.Oh, and I'd wanted to ask someone about those, too… Right as I was about to shove the door open Joey planted himself and I couldn't pull him any farther.

"I'm not goin' 'til you say what dis is about."

"Joey, I'm not playing," I said."Joey!"My hardest pulls on his hand didn't even knock him off-balance.Hearing the crowd break into applause, signaling the end of the song, I finally blurted it out."Joey, you have to come, there's going to be a fight with the cops and everything and if you stay in here you'll get hurt and, and arrested.So you hafta come!"

"Dat's what dis is about?" he said, pulling his hand out of mine and looking disgusted.You'se worried about me?Think I can't hold me own in a fight?"

"Joey, no," I said anxiously, but my excuse was cut off by the shrill sound of a police whistle.At the sound, Joey dashed away from me as fast as he could, heading for the fight.I easily caught up and grabbed his shoulder."Don't, please," I begged.I felt so helpless.

Joey jerked his shoulder away."I'se da Midtown leadah, Margaret.I don't got a choice," he said, then the angry set of his face softened."But you gotta get outta heah."He took my elbow and tried to lead me toward the lobby doors.

"No, not that way!" I said, pulling him backwards."Up by the stage!"He followed close behind me, as well as he could, through the fighting crowd and up to where Sarah and Les were just disappearing through the exit.I turned once to see a man come after Joey with a club.I shrieked his name and he ducked the blow and wrenched the club from his attacker's hands, then wielded it as his own weapon.I shrank away from the sight and then saw another man coming up behind him.

Without thinking, I ran forward and slammed into him, ramming my head into his stomach and knocking him backwards.He swung his fist at me and I felt it connect hard, and stumbled into a column.Through the hands covering my face, I saw Joey go after him with the stolen club, and force him back into the orchestra pit.

"Margaret!" he called, and grabbed my hand."Are you okay?"I nodded, and he pulled me upright."Come on!"

He staggered slightly with every step as we raced toward the exit again.I just barely saw Jack running by, pursued by the police, and then Joey was pushing me ahead of him."Come with me, Joey," I panted, grabbing his wrists."It's almost over.They're going to arrest everyone; you can't let that happen to you.Please, Joey."

Blood ran down from a cut above his brow and he blinked it away.I gripped his wrists tighter and repeated my request.At last he sighed deeply and let me pull him up and outside with me.Only when our feet landed on the cobblestones and Joey had checked for pursuers did I start to breathe normally, though the sight of the newsies being beaten still tore at my mind.

"You come back to Midtown wit me tonight," he said.It wasn't a request; leaders don't usually have their commands questioned.I didn't.

"And tomorrow morning, we'll see the others in court."

If he wondered how I knew these things, he didn't show it.He leaned heavily on my shoulder as we slowly made our way back to Midtown.The cut on his forehead was just now ceasing to bleed, and other bruises and marks were apparent on his face under the light of the streetlamps.He caught me looking at him and flashed a grin.

"You don't look so hot yourself," he told me.

"I don't?"

"You're gonna have a heckuva shinah dere t'marra," he said, and touched just below my left eye.I winced a little, then smiled slightly.My first black eye.Received defending the newsies at the rally.That was certainly something to remember.


	5. Day Five [Getting original with chapter...

Thursday was hot and miserable

Thursday was hot and miserable.For all the obvious reasons.

That afternoon, we laid around at the docks in Brooklyn.The heat was unbearable, but worse yet was the mood.The very air around us was thick with misery, like smog.Joey and I had met up with the Jacobs and Denton that morning, and we had all gone to see that the boys got out of court.And of course, Jack was instead taken to the Refuge.It was all downhill from there, especially with Denton adding the final touch.Though no one would have voiced this to Davey, suddenly the strike was looking like an impossible victory.Only Davey refused to believe we couldn't succeed.

Of course, I tried to keep a positive attitude.I mean, I knew that we would win in the end—right?But this time travel stuff just complicated everything. It must just have been everyone else's mood influencing mine, but whatever it was, I found it hard to put on an optimistic front.

Between the heat and the mood, there was little action at the docks.A few boys swam, but there was no horsing around, no cannonball competitions.I was too depressed even to admire the boys in their clingy, wet undershorts. Well, okay, not that depressed. I'll admit Mush's physique took my mind off the strike for a little while.Anyone who's too depressed to notice _that_ boy in wet skivvies must be pretty darn near suicide.But the point I was trying to make was, we were all pretty mopey and listless.

Race leaned against a pile, his shirt open at the collar and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.I plopped down next to him and leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Tired?" he asked, moving so I could get more comfortable.

"Yeah," I replied, and yawned to prove it.

"Up late wit Joey?" he asked.

I turned and looked at him a moment, trying to figure out what he meant by that.He stared straight ahead over the water."No, actually," I said at last."Went to sleep as soon as we got back."

"Where'd ya sleep?"

I sat up more and stared at him.He looked at me, then quickly away."What is this, the Grand Inquisition?Just where do you _think_ I slept?"

"Was just a question," he answered quickly."Nothin' meant."

"I should hope so," I huffed, crossing my arms and settling back against him.What was he thinking, that I liked Joey?Well, brave and smart he might be, but he just wasn't my type, and for a variety of reasons.I stole a look at Race out of the corner of my eye.Why was he asking?No, he probably didn't… He couldn't possibly… No, he just wanted to poke his nose in my business, that was all.Like an older brother.It was impossible to imagine him as anything more.

Weird thoughts.I stood up and shook my head."I think I'll watch the guys swim.Walk with me?"

He pulled his hat lower over his eyes."Nah.I'm gonna try ta nap.Prison cells ain't got da most comfortable beds."

"Didn't seem to bother the others," I observed, looking farther down the docks where the boys were getting a bit more lively.A few were swimming, and the others lounged around, playing dispirited games of cards or marbles or even, in one case, chess.I wandered a bit, looking at this and that, and suddenly shrieked as I was grabbed from behind.

"Ahh!What the heck!?"Eew, somebody had me in a cold wet grasp.I pulled away and saw Blink, soaking wet in his underclothes.

I gawked for a full minute before remembering to act irritated.I gave his shoulder the requisite girly-smack and yelped something about not getting me wet, yadda yadda.Rules of the flirting game. 

"Why ain't ya swimmin', Margaret?" he asked with that adorable grin, pushing his wet hair off his forehead."Da wata's great."

"Very funny," I retorted."What am I supposed to do, strip down to my underwear like you boys?"

The newsies howled with laughter, shocked and delighted to hear this from the mouth of a girl.Oh right, like they weren't already imagining it.

"Margaret!" Blink said, pretending to be embarrassed for me."We'd nevah suggest such a thing.If you came swimmin', we'd hafta get you a decent swimming costume."

"No way," I said."I wouldn't be caught dead in your version of a swimsuit either."

"Modesty, from you?" Spot teased.Ah, look ma, I barely know the kid and I already have a reputation.

"Modest?The opposite.What bothers me is that those things cover you from neck to knee.I wear less to school!"

"Ya do?" Mush asked.A dozen newsboy heads swiveled toward me and twenty-four unblinking eyes fastened on me."Like what?"

"You know, flip-flops, bare legs, a tank top or t-shirt, shorts to here," I said, drawing a line where my shorts usually ended.

"You serious?"

"Bare legs?"

"Most people would wear less if it weren't for the dress code," I added.

"May I live to see the day," Mush whispered with reverence.

"You just might," I said, working some quick math in my head.People didn't start getting really free with dress 'til the sixties… That'd make Mush, what, seventy-five?Ahhh, I had a mental image of Grandpa Mush as a dirty old man, leching after girls in their school clothes.A bubble of laughter rose up in my throat and I let it out for the sheer joy of laughing.I hadn't laughed all day, and it felt good to relax.I think all of us were starting to put the depressing events of the morning behind us.

We ended up organizing races up and down the docks.When I disgraced myself by losing the sprint twenty times in a row, my punishment was a surprise attack.One boy seized each limb and swung me out over the edge of the pier.I shrieked hysterically of course, terrified not of the water but of hitting my head, but I landed with a safe (albeit painful) bellyflop into the water."I'm going to kill you!" I screamed once I'd hauled myself out, and chased them down the planks like a bedraggled banshee.But, well, there's a reason I lost those races.The boys disappeared into the darkening city streets before I could lay a hand on a one of them.

"I'll get you, my pretties," I yelled hoarsely, my fists clenched and water streaming off of my soaked clothes, "and your little dog too!"I cackled evilly in my best Wicked Witch imitation.

"What are you _babbling_ about?"Racetrack.I blushed.

"Neeevermind," I said."Now be a gentleman and hand over that jacket.I swear, I'll have their guts for garters!"

But of course, Racetrack's jacket had been half off before I'd even said the word.Why he had been wearing it to begin with was something I couldn't fathom—even as the July evening grew dark, the weather was oppressively warm.In my saturated condition, though, it was appreciated.Race and I strolled back together, his arm around my shoulder, and talked a little of the strike.

"But we'se gettin' Jack outta da Refuge tanight, so–"

"Oh yeah, I'll help watch Les."

"Hunh?"

"When you bring him back.Nevermind."Again.Why did I always let my mouth get ahead of me?

"You take some gettin' used to, ya know dat?"

"Thanks," I said breezily."I get that a lot back home, too."For the first time that whole day, my home crossed my mind.And Racetrack's, too, I guessed by his silence.Was now the time to tell him what I'd been thinking about?I would have, but suddenly the lodging house was right there on the left, and Davey and the others were out front, apparently already waiting for Race.

"Well, you go on," I said."Can I just help myself to some of your clothes?"

"Shoah, whatevah's clean," he said."See ya later."

And when he came back not too long later, Les in tow, I just smiled all-knowingly and said, "See?"

"Aw, stuff it, and deal da cards."


	6. Day SEVEN (how adventurous of me!) and G...

Chapter Six: Day SEVEN! (How adventurous of me!) Coastal Video Normal Coastal Video 2 4 2001-11-09T02:43:00Z 2001-11-09T02:51:00Z 6 2746 15656 130 31 19226 9.2720 75 9.35 pt 6.35 pt 0 2 

I leaned close to the bathroom mirror and frowned at my reflection.  I tentatively prodded my now yellow-green bruise, and winced.  Still hurt.  I looked like a joke, all dressed up in my best again, with that toxic-colored shiner.  Well, what could I do?  No concealer in 1899.  Also, no air conditioning, refrigerators, CD players, cars, sneakers… the list went on and on.  I stepped away from the mirror and started to sweep my hair into a ponytail, a frown still marring my face.  The year 2000 had been on my mind all that day, and the day before, even when I was picketing or eating or playing cards with the boys.  I'd always known I'd have to return eventually.  But 'eventually' had always felt so far off before… That was why I felt this afternoon had to go just right.

I snapped the elastic around my hair just as I heard the knock at the door.  "Come in," I called, knowing it would be Race, as expected.  I double-checked my appearance in the mirror before going to meet him in the room.

"So what's dis about?" he asked, hands in his pockets.  As per the note I had delivered that morning, he was dressed sharp, his hair smoothed back and everything.

"You'll see," I said, picking my purse up from the dresser.  "Come on."

"Hey, how's your shinah t'day?" he asked, stopping me to peer at it.

"Gross," I said, "but at least it hasn't migrated."

"Uuuh?" he said, my _Newsies_ humor lost on him as usual.  Aww.  Poor little lost boy.

"What do I always tell you, Race?" I asked.  "When I make my cryptic comments, you have to just ignore them or you'll hurt yourself trying to figure them out!"

He crossed his eyes to emphasize his dopeyness and I patted his head patronizingly.

"It's okay," I cooed.  "Now come on."  I caught him by the sleeve and pulled him along after me.  "We can't be late."

"Late for what?"

"It's a supriiiise!"

He frowned, hating my intentional ambiguity.  "Good surprise or bad surprise?"

"_Good_ surprise.  I promise."

He grumbled but followed me as I led him through the streets.  I'd gotten quite proud of the navigation skills I'd developed in the past week, and managed to get lost only four times.

"Wheah _are_ you takin' me?" Race complained when we turned back for the—okay, fifth time.

"Just trying to confuse you.  Don't want you to figure it out so soon!"

Thankfully, though, from then on I managed to stay on the right track the rest of the way to the races—which was, of course, where we were destined all along.  Didn't forget the plans I was making Wednesday, did you?

"Now shut your eyes," I told him stupidly as we neared the track.

"Shut my eyes!  Wit your sense a direction?  No t'ank you, I'd end up in da Gulf a Mexico!"

"I get the point, I get the point.  I think you know where we're going by now anyway."

"Yeah, I do… Can't say I know what's so special 'bout da track, though."

"You'll see!"

We finally arrived at the tracks and I pulled him up to his present—

"A private box!" he marveled, his jaw dropping.

I crossed my arms and squeezed myself in a hug.  "You like it?"

"Oh wow…" he was all over the room, touching the velvet cushions on the chairs, the elegant ashtray, the glass decanters of water, the complimentary imported cigars open in a box on a table.  "Dis is… You didn't, Margaret!"

"Okay, I didn't.  I mean, it's not permanent—nobody's got that kind of money.  But I knew you wanted it, and I wanted to get you a present."  A going-away present, I thought, but didn't speak aloud.  Not yet.

"Well it's great!" he said, tearing his eyes away from the room's furnishings long enough to grin at me.  "Hey, c'mere."  He grabbed me and wrapped me in a hug, and I knew the afternoon was going to go just as I planned it.

We whooped and skipped on our way home, unable to keep our feet from running ahead.  The moon lit up the street, casting our dancing shadows over the cobblestones, and the night air was cool and fresh against my skin.  "We're rich!" I cried out to the stars, spinning in the street.

Race caught me and covered my mouth.  "What are you tryin' ta do, get us robbed?"

I laughed and pulled away. "Sorry!  I'm just so hyper!"  I took off twirling again and he ran along beside me, laughing at the strange looks I was receiving from the few passersby.

"Well I feel da same way but I ain't shoutin' it to da woild," he told me.

I giggled, slowing.  "This is so much fun though… Watch out, Race, you may have made a gambler out of me!  Does it always feel this good to win?"

"I wouldn't know," he said with a grin, walking backwards in front of me.  "I nevah do.  You must be good luck."  He stopped right in my path and I almost bumped into him.  He was standing so close, I felt a blush spread across my cheeks.

"Only one of my many talents!" I joked lamely, and hurried to start walking again.  He fell in alongside me, flipping a coin as he walked.

"So what's da plans for da rest of da night?  We could catch a pictcha show at dat new theatah downtown, if you want."

"Um, actually, I have something I have to do tonight," I said.

"What's dat?"

We had come to an intersection and I happened to glance up at the sky.  "Oh, wow," I said, stopping to look above me.

"What?"

"You see that?  In New York, in my time, you can't see the stars."

"Whattya mean 'you can't see da stars'?"

"I mean," I said, "you can't.  Not really.  There's buildings, and pollution, and electric lights.  And you just can't see them.  But here… I mean, now…"  I trailed off and continued to stare straight up.  Beside me, Race did the same, perhaps imagining a day when the stars would be obscured.  I linked my arm through his and stood there for I don't know how long before we started walking again.

"Anyway, what was it you haf ta do?"

"Um.  Well, tonight I want to go home."

"Well dat's fine too," he said easily enough.

I stared at him, flabbergasted.  I'd spent so long figuring out how to break it to him gently, and he reacts like this?  I expected… I don't know what I expected, but certainly not this calm, casual acceptance.  He wasn't even looking at me!  "You're not upset or anything?"

"No, not at all.  If you gotta go home, I understand.  We probably did enough today anyway."

"Hunh," I said to myself, somehow feeling a little offended.  He continued chattering though.

"We could maybe see if Blink an' Mush wanna play some cards… Of course dey'll ask for Go Fish as usual but maybe you could get a pokah game or two outta dem."

"What?"

"What what?"

I stopped him.  "Race, I'm not talking about going to the lodging house.  Or my apartment either," I added quickly, to prevent future misunderstanding.  "I meant home home.  Future home."

He gaped at me.  "What?  What for?  How?  Why now?"

"I'm sure there's a good answer to each of those questions," I said carefully, "but, ah, I don't know them.  It's just…I don't know, it just feels like tonight's the time.  I'm sorry, I don't mean to—"

"No, I undahstand," he interrupted.  "I knew you'd want ta go home sometime.  I just t'ought you might stay more'n a week, dat's all."

"I wish I could."

"You _can_."

I rubbed my shoulder and sighed.  "Then you really don't understand."

"I'm sorry, Margaret," he said after a time. "I didn't mean ta make ya made at me."

"I'm not mad."

"Well, upset.  Come on, let's at least try ta stay on good terms for dis last night."

"Okay," I said, and hugged him again.  Then we continued back to my apartment, where I finished through with my plan.

"You're in charge of these," I said, handing him the bag full of the presents.  "They're all labeled, who they go to."

"Aw, Margaret, you didn't have ta do dat," he protested, peeking into the bag.

"I just wanted to.  There are messages, too, on this paper here.  Tell Blink good luck with the fishmonger's daughter, and after tomorrow, let Jack know it's okay to dump Sarah."

"Dump Sarah?  What would 'e do dat for?"

I smiled as I thought back to my conversation with Jack in the lodging house, before the mess with the rally and everything.  "She's a nice goil an' all," he'd said, "but I dunno if she's my type.  Pretty, shoah, but I don't think she's got much up heah."  He'd tapped his head to demonstrate.  _Yes!  _I thought, then _No!_

_"_You don't mean that, Jack," I said desperately.  Oh yes, he does.  "I think you're judging her a little too soon."

"Yeah, you think so?" he said, leaning his elbow against the banister.  "Maybe so.  I think she likes me."

"Oh, she does.  I can tell.  So it's only fair to give her a chance.  You know, a few days or something."  Yuck.  A girl could make herself sick talking like that.

Jack nodded, looking thoughtful.  What a change from his usual expression, I observed.  "Yeah, I think you're right," he said.  "I'll see how it woiks out.  See ya latah, Margaret."  He strolled over to the poker game, hands in his pockets, and I let out a huge sigh of relief.  Somebody up there was certainly proud of me, that I knew.  It was so hard not to give into temptation when it was so, well, tempting.  But I'd done what I had to do, and I guessed that living with a bad taste in your mouth is better than screwing up the entire Newsies universe.

"'Ello, Margaret?" Race asked, tapping my forehead and snapping me back from space-out land.

"Oh, sorry.  Happy memories.  Anyway, all that's in that bag.  Now I just need to get changed."

"What for?  You look nice."

"Well, I can hardly show up back in 2000 in this getup.  I'd stick out a mile—okay, maybe it takes more than this to stick out in New York, but my mom would certainly notice."  I didn't fill him in on one key factor of my planned century-changing: as I really had no idea how this time travel stuff would work, my best plan was to recreate the night I left as accurately as I could.  I had re-packed my purse and located the dress and shoes, and I left him with the bag as I changed in the bathroom.

When I emerged, once again wearing my revealing black-and-white dress, Race made a big show out of covering his eyes.  "I won't look," he said, staggering backwards blindly.  "You ain't decent!"

I stuck out my tongue, though he couldn't see, and said, "Fine then.  Jacket, please."  He handed it over and I tugged it over me as modestly as possible.

"I'm dressed now," I sang, and he finally looked at me.  "I don't have much need for this anymore," I said, shoving the nice red dress into his arms, "so, do whatever you can with it.  Let one of the guys indulge his secret fantasies or something."

"What!?"

"Oops," I said sheepishly.  "Did I say that last part out loud?"  I quickly changed the subject.  "And that looks like about it…  Shall we go?"

He dumped the stuff on the bed, to pick up later, and made me wait in the hallway as he settled my account with the hotel's proprietor, for decency's sake.  "I'm not naked, you know," I hissed at him when we started out into the street.

"You're shoah close enough," he retorted.  "Would you keep dat jacket buttoned?"

I laughed and called him an old fussbudget, and just for good measure, stole his hat and swatted him with it before slipping it on.  "Well, lead the way, Jeeves.  Show me back to where you first found me."

As I followed him back to the site of the 2000 theater, I recognized the route.  How could I not?  I'd been rapturously observing every detail at the time.  Now, I again kept my eyes glued to the scenery, stocking up on mental photographs.  In a moment, though, I realized it wasn't going to be the 1899 atmosphere I missed, but the friends I'd made.  I'd wanted so much to visit them to say goodbye, but I didn't trust myself to stick to my convictions in the face of twenty beautiful boys begging me not to go.  One, I thought I could handle.  Hoped I could handle.  Or didn't.  No, damnit, don't get teary-eyed yet.  There was going to be plenty of time for that if the good-byes were as long and drawn-out as I expected them to be.

"Heah we are," Race said, stopping in front of a darkened storefront.  "Well, now what?"

"Um, really, I don't know," I finally admitted.  "I guess I just… I dunno.  Let it happen."  I let out a bright, nervous laugh.  "I mean, I don't have a magic telephone booth or a plutonium-powered Delorean handy."  The jest died a quick and merciful death as my laughter cut off as swift as a guillotine blade.

"Yeah," Race said, sticking his hands in his pockets and then crossing them over his chest before jamming them back in his pockets.

"Well."

"Well.  So, dis is goodbye."

"Yeah," I said, then suddenly grabbed him in a hug.  "Thanks for looking out for me," I said, holding him tight, and quickly kissing his cheek.  He held me a moment longer before we released and stared at each other again.

"T'anks for everything you did too," he said.  "Da races an' all.  Hey, come back an' we'll do it again sometime."  His eyes twinkled and I couldn't help but grin back.

"Or who knows, maybe you'll be visiting me next time."

"I'd like dat.  Still got da racetrack in dat 'year 2000' a yours?"

"I wonder what you'd think of NASCAR," I mused, though I don't follow racing, myself.  "Hey, I'd take you to the speedpark."

"I think I'd like dat," he said.

I nodded with a close-lipped smile, feeling my eyes start to prickle.  Then we hugged again, and this time when I stepped back he kept his arms around me.  My face flushed as he looked at me, then moved closer.  At the last second I moved my head and his kiss landed somewhere on my jawline, his nose bumping my ear.  We immediately sprang away from each other, avoiding each other's eyes and turning various shades of red.

"Um," I said, studying the run in my hose.

"Er," he said.

Then, "Sorry," we both said, and smiled a little.

I started to step away, but as my lips formed the 'g' of 'goodbye', I remembered something.  "Oh yeah, this is yours," I said, pulling off his cap and holding it out to him.

He stared at it a minute like he couldn't remember ever having seen it before, then mumbled a thank you and took it from my hand.

"Well, tell everyone I said goodbye," I said, pushing some hair behind my ears.

"I will," he said.

"So, um, bye."

"Yeah.  Bye, Margaret."  He looked at me just a minute more before turning and walking away.

I faced the opposite direction and chewed a hangnail, feeling a little sick to my stomach.  Well, there was nothing I could do.  I started walking down the sidewalk, trying to push Race and all the others from my mind and concentrate on the 21st century.  I'd go back home, and live a normal life again, and keep nothing of this experience but one helluva wild story to tell.  No, better not to tell.  Everyone would think I was crazy, and I knew now that I wasn't.

Wait a minute.  I halted in my tracks.  I really _was_ crazy.  Racetrack wanted to kiss me and I was _leaving_??  That's the sort of thing you can get committed for!  Forget the 21st century.  1899 was where I belonged.  I spun in my heels and took off.

"Race, wait!" I yelled after him.  I couldn't let him get away, not when he was so close!  I started jogging after him, my purse bouncing against my thigh and my black strappy sandals threatening to let me topple.  "Racetrack!"

He turned the corner and I was afraid I would lose him, so I put on an extra burst of speed and followed, right on his heels.  I slammed into somebody's back and went flying, knocking my victim off balance.

I grabbed his arm to help him up.  "I changed my mind," I said immediately.  This is no time for apologizing.  "I'm staying here."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, pulling his arm out of my grasp and adjusting the sunglasses I had knocked askew.

"Race?"  My knees went weak and something cold blossomed in my stomach.  Oh, no, please…

"Oh, so you're a _Newsies_ fan," Max said knowingly, looking over his shades at me.  He picked my playbill and pen off the ground and scrawled a lazy signature.  "There ya go," he said, sticking it in my shaking hand and stepping off the curb towards a waiting cab.  I stood silent on the sidewalk, a stream of people flowing around me, and watched him go, my eyes threatening to spill tears.  I dropped my gaze to the ground and wiped my eye—wait.  What was that?

"Wait, your hat!" I said, reaching down and picking up his cap.  "Mr. Casella, your hat?"  I took three quick steps toward him, but the car door slammed shut and the taxi pulled off into the busy New York traffic.  This time, I couldn't keep the tears from rolling over onto my cheeks.

I drew the back of my hand across my eyes and felt the tears smear sticky and hot.  Well, I really screwed it up this time.  Anyone who couldn't see that one coming from a mile (or at least a block) away deserves to be shot.  So why couldn't I?

"Margaret!  Margaret!"  My mother was calling my name.  I wiped at my eyes hard and turned around.  She was heading down the sidewalk toward me, my little brother tagging along behind her.  So, it was over for real.  My eyes were still blurry with tears when I glanced down at the hat that hung limply from my fingers.  I breathed in sharply as I saw that this was not the blue ballcap Max Casella had been wearing.  This was a newsies cap, and a familiar one.  With cold fingers, I turned it inside out and saw, scratched in the brim, the clear block printing of Racetrack's name.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_House lights up, cue the theme song, and roll the credits.  (Nyaah, nyaah, my fic has a theme song!)  _ S Club 7's_ "Never Had a Dream Come True"_

Everybody's got something they had to leave behind,  
One regret from yesterday that just seems to grow with time  
There's no use looking back, oh wondering  
How it could be now, oh might have been  
Oh this I know, but still I can't find ways to let you go  
  
I never had a dream come true  
Till the day that I found you  
Even though I pretend that I've moved on  
You'll always be my baby  
I never found the words to say   
You're the one I think about each day  
And I know no matter where life takes me to  
A part of me will always be with you

Somewhere in my memory I've lost all sense of time  
And tomorrow can never be 'cause yesterday is all that fills my mind  
There's no use looking back, oh wondering  
How it should be now, oh might have been   
Oh this I know but still I can't find ways to let you go  
  
I never had a dream come true  
Till the day that I found you  
Even though I pretend that I've moved on  
You'll always be my baby  
I never found the words to say   
You're the one I think about each day  
And I know no matter where life takes me to  
A part of me will always be   
  
You'll always be the dream that fills my head   
You'll always be the one I know I'll never forget,  
There's no use looking back, oh wondering  
Because love is a strange and funny thing  
No matter how I try and try I just can't say goodbye, no no no no  
  
I never had a dream come true  
Till the day that I found you  
Even though I pretend that I've moved on  
You'll always be my baby  
I never found the words to say  
You're the one I think about each day  
And I know no matter where life takes me to  
A part of me will always be with you  
A part of me will always be with you.__


End file.
